


I Should've Walked Away

by Sherwhotreksings



Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Romance, a point game for erin's level of flustered, angsty hurt/comfort, smidge of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherwhotreksings/pseuds/Sherwhotreksings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling out of windows isn’t something Holtzmann planned to make a habit of, and yet here she is, falling once more. As she hurtles towards the ground, she’d like to say her life flashes before her eyes, but that’s not what she is thinking about at all. Maybe that means she won’t die when she hits the ground. No, the only thought in her head is that she should’ve listened to her gut that morning. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Should've Walked Away

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl, this story is hell and I'm sorry for making you endure this, but it's also super good and I'm super proud of this one! Yes the title is from (I Just) Died in Your Arms, super sorry for that too.

She didn’t sleep at all last night, which isn’t that uncommon considering everything she has to think about and all the gadgets she has to finish. Yesterday they ran into an extremely malicious class IV ghost, one that could handle their proton pack attack easily, in The Penthouse on the corner of 57th street. Her small guns weren’t even stealthy enough to surprise this nasty ghosty, so Holtzmann stayed up all night building a more compact version for the Ghostbusters to use. Normally she’d like to take more time, but with four murders this week, they need to catch this spectre before it happens again. Erin suspected the reason it’s so powerful is because this week the moon is supposed to be the closest to Earth that it’s been for 300 years. They’ve had more ghost sightings this month alone than they’ve had in the year since Rowan. 

“It looks like a tube of mascara.” Holtzmann holds up the black, nondescript mini blaster. “It’ll fit right in your purse or pocket. To use it, you unscrew what would be the wand part.” She twists it open with a quick flick of her wrist. “Then you turn it around and put the end of the wand back in the tube, like you would with the cap of a pen you don’t want to lose while you’re writing.” She grins, clearly excited to explain how it all works. “The tube acts as the pack and by unscrewing the wand, you charge the protons. The little metal band here,” she pulls out the wand, pointing to a silver band around the cap, “is where it connects to the pack. Other than that it works exactly like your normal ones.” Pointing to a small button on the side of the wand, she continues, “Here is the activation switch. Unfortunately it only generates about 10 minutes of continuous proton stream at one time before you’ll have to charge it up again, but I amped up the blast strength and doubled the ionic charge, which should help… just don’t drop it. There’s about a gram of radioactive matter in there and it is extremely,  _ extremely _ unstable.” She passes out a mini blaster to everyone, pausing before handing Erin’s hers. “Extremely.”

Erin smiles nervously, she’s the first to admit she doesn’t always approve of Holtz’s unstable methods, but what can you do when they’re the only thing that’s effective? 

Holtz bounces on her heels, trying to work her random burst of energy off. “I also made a mini containment unit, but I don’t know how long it can hold a ghost for, so we should bring with our regular one as backup and leave it in the hearse.” An uncommon wave of nerves washes over her and settles in the pit of her stomach, she’s never gone into battle without general testing her equipment, let alone not even theoretically testing them. She’s done the math in her head, and it all works out, but she’s been wrong before. 

Abby shoots her a look of concern, but Holtz brushes her off with a smile. 

“You sure you’re up for this, Holtzy?” Erin says quietly, placing a hand on Holtz’s arm. 

“Baby, I’m up for anything you’re involved with,” Holtzmann says with a wink, brazenly grabbing Erin’s hip. It’s directly followed by a long yawn. “Maybe someone else should drive.” 

Erin blushes, stuttering out something about Patty and keys. 

Holtzmann loves the way she makes Erin so flustered. It’s a game she likes to play with herself, see how many times in one day she can break Erin’s composure. She gives herself 2 points for staring open mouthed, 5 points for blushing with a bonus point for it going down to her breasts, 7 points for stuttering, and 50 points for all three if Erin was daydreaming. Her high score is 237.

Who could’ve predicted that throwaway “come here often?” line would develop into full blown Heartitus; a term she started using in high school when she got crushes on straight girls, and Erin thinks she is painfully straight, or at least stiff enough not to swing. Literally everyone else knows better because apparently Erin is the only one who can’t tell she’s fallen for Holtzmann.

Holtz often imagines what would make her break because there’s definitely something in her that’s not straight, not by a long shot. She just needs to realize it herself. Holtz’s casual flirting didn’t work, so she advanced to the ‘woo by dance’ phase which failed as well, next came the hardcore flirting, and she’s been doing that for a year now with no progress. There isn’t really anything left other than flinging herself at Erin and jumping her, but she’d never do that. Mainly because she doesn’t want to do something that drastic without Erin’s consent, but she also isn’t  _ that _ direct of a person. Besides, if the day comes that Erin realizes she likes Holtz, she wants her to beg for it. 

The car ride to The Penthouse is unusually quiet, the only noise coming from the gentle clang of Holtzmann’s tools as she tinkers last minute with the mini containment unit. It’s not long before the rock of the car lulls her to sleep, tools sliding from her hands, onto the seat, and then onto the floor. She slumps onto Erin’s shoulder, loose curls falling into her face and glasses slipping down her nose. It’s only a 15 minute drive, 25 if there’s unusually bad traffic and she spent 5 minutes messing with her equipment, so she’s not going to get a very long nap.

She wakes up to Erin gingerly brushing the curls out of Holtz’s face and a whisper of, “Holtzy, we’re here.” 

She is so disoriented that it takes her a few seconds to realize where and when they are. Groggy would be an understatement at this point. 

She scooches out of the car after Erin and shakes her arms and legs, jumping around to try and wake up some, but it barely gets her blood pumping. 

“Once we locate what room it’s in, Patty, you take the doorway to make sure it can’t leave. Abby and Erin pick a corner, and I’ll take the far wall. We’ll push it to the center,” Holtz demonstrates with her fingers, “and once it’s there I’ll use my handy-dandy lipstick mini containment unit and shhhhhhhhlppppp!” she mimics the sound the containment unit makes, “That’s that. Just remember that it needs to think we’re guests there for morning tea and not the awesome Ghostbusters.”

It helps immensely that Patty suggested they not wear their normal uniforms for this. 

“Let’s get this done so we can have wonton soup!” Abby shouts excitedly.

“Woo! Yeah!” Holtzmann feels particularly less enthusiastic than she’s portraying and in fact, that feeling of dread has returned full strength. She chances a look at Erin, who has picked up on something being wrong, but hasn’t figured out what yet. 

Erin awkwardly pats Holtzmann’s back from behind in what she can only assume is meant to be reassuring, as they trudge inside the huge double doors. They head towards the elevator to go to the top floor. Holtz chuckles quietly to herself, the penthouse of The Penthouse. They have to be extra careful because the manager only closed the top floor, since that seems to be where the ghost is confined to, but the other floors are filled with guests.

As the elevator comes to a stop, the doors open with a ding, revealing the setting for this battle. It’s eerie. The thick closed curtains refuse to let any sunlight in and the whole place is dimly lit by lamps bolted to the walls. The four girls walk through the hallways on edge, the tension insurmountable as the faint sound of clinking chains grows louder the longer they walk. A thin layer of grime covers every surface despite only being closed for a day. 

Holtzmann pauses at the sight of the wall to her right. Nail marks are scratched deeply into the surface, leading all the way down to the end of the hall where a broken window casts a singular ray of light on a door. The door to the room with the clinking chains. She swallows hard, not really wanting to be the first person to open it, but knowing she has to.

She motions with her head and the girls strike up a very forced sounding conversation, loudly rambling about the weather and the newspaper article Patty read, to try and trick the ghost.

Holtz throws the door open and strides into the room, crossing to the small table at the center. So far no ghost. The other three Ghostbusters follow behind, sitting in the chairs only after Holtz has slouched down and tossed an arm over the back of hers, one hand cautiously on her pocket. The spectral sound, it seems, has stopped. 

“So, Erin,” Holtzmann directs, “have you ever kissed a woman before?”

“Holtzmann!” Abby shouts, mouth falling open. “Now is not the time.” 

“No, I think a better question would be, would you kiss a woman?” Patty joins in. 

Abby shoots daggers at Patty for encouraging the distraction, clearly just wanting to get this ghost hunting over with. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it,” Erin states simply, unfazed for once by the question.

Patty very visibly rolls her eyes. “Girl, stop playing. I know you’re lying.” 

“It’s coolio, Patty. Let her pretend all she wants. We all know everyone thinks about kissing me.” Holtzmann leans across the table towards Erin, letting her crop top ride up higher than she normally would, all the while never breaking eye contact with Erin.

She watches Erin’s eyes flicker to her lips, then to the huge gap of skin showing through her overalls, and back to her lips, before meeting Holtz’s gaze, blushing prettily.

That’s 5 points.

Holtz leans away again, propping one foot up on the table, and tips her chair back, balancing it precariously. 

Of course the ghost chooses this moment to materialize above her with a loud scream. 

Holtzmann stumbles off of the chair, letting it hit the floor with a crack.

“Patty, now!” Holtz shouts while backing up to her designated spot. 

Patty hits the ghost with the proton stream and the ghost retaliates by spraying ectoplasm across the room. It struggles to fight off the the lasso like hold, flailing it’s arms like mad. Holtz shoots it from the back, joined by Abby and Erin on the sides. A chair flies across the room at Patty, but she ducks, gracefully avoiding it. 

“Ha! Nice try ghosty,” Patty yells triumphantly. “Oh, shit.” 

The ghost launches the whole table at her and Patty jumps away, mini blaster deactivating. The ghost surges forward, breaking out of the hold from the other three blasters. Holtzmann tucks and rolls as the ghost attacks her with a discharge of ectoplasm that somehow misses her and hits Erin. 

As Erin is spattering and wiping the plasma from her eyes and nose, the ghost topples the large wooden bookshelf directly behind her. Holtz lunges and grabs her arm, dragging Erin down and away at the last second. She lands directly on Holtzmann, both of them groaning as they hit the floor. 

“This is quite a change, normally I’m the one on top.” 

Erin’s eyes glaze over as her mouth falls open and she turns a delicious shade of pink. Normally Holtz would revel in such a perfect 50 pointer, but the victory is short lived.

“Enough flirting! Let’s catch this thing and be done with it!” Abby shouts, frustrated with the lack of help.

Holtz slips out from under Erin, jumping to her feet and adjusts her glasses that are hanging from one ear. 

The second blast from Holtz is enough to confuse the ghost and give time for Patty and Erin to get back on their feet and join them. She quickly pulls the mini containment unit out of her pocket and flips the switch, aiming it at the ghost. The vacuum sucks it in and it disappears with a loud pop and burst of ectoplasm. 

“It’s in there, right?” Erin asks.

“Should be, I-” The unit shakes violently in Holtzmann’s hand and everyone freezes. “It’s okay guys, just a little P.K.E displacement. Nothing to be afraid of.” Her heart is pounding so hard she can feel it in her throat. She really doesn’t know what that was. At least it’s in here for now and they can transfer it over once they’re back at the hearse. 

High fives and hugs are exchanged, the four women happily praising Holtz on her miniaturized weapons  

She sighs in relief. Holtz may occasionally doubt her skills as an engineer, but her team is right. They can trust her to build something to get the job done. Now maybe she can get back to the firehouse and take a nap. 

The mini containment unit shakes slightly in her hand, not noticeable to anyone else. Holtz folds her glasses up and tucks them into the pocket of her overalls, bringing the unit eye level to examine. She follows Abby, Patty, and Erin out of the room, rotating the mini unit slowly as she squints. 

She tries to steady her voice, not wanting to panic the other women. “We should hurry. The mini unit has a crack.” It’s not something too severe, but it’s not something you want to see either. 

_ Chicka-boom _

The mini containment unit explodes in Holtzmann’s hand, sending her flying backwards into the wall with the scratches. She shakes her head, a fog descending on her brain. Erin is crouched down next to her, saying something, but Holtz doesn’t know what. 

The whole world is silent. 

Abby and Patty have their backs to Erin and Holtz, defending them from the ghost that is now free from confinement. Holtz thinks Abby is screaming at her, going by the way she keeps turning her head in her direction and her jaw movement, but she can’t see her mouth to know for sure. 

She closes her eyes for a second, but Erin carefully shakes her arm, so she opens them again, trying very hard to focus on her face. Something wet slides onto her lip and she licks it off, wondering if she’s crying. It’s distinctly metallic. She shakily lifts a hand to her face, pressing it to the right side of her nose. It comes away bloody. She carefully runs a finger over the cut, digging out a piece of shrapnel and wincing. She looks to Erin, eyes wide with fear, only to find that her back is turned as she blasts the advancing ghost. 

It seems even more powerful than before because the mini proton blasters aren’t doing much. It swoops low over Erin’s head and latches on to Holtzmann’s ankle. Holtz thinks she’s screaming or maybe has been this whole time because her throat feels like it’s on fire. The ghost drags her down the hall and Erin is frantically grasping at her hand, coming up centimeters short each time. 

And then she’s falling. 

It almost feels like flying if she closes her eyes. 

Erin is leaning out the window where the ghost dropped her, crying hysterically, and Abby and Patty have to hold her back.

It’s definitely a good thing Erin was too stiff to do anything about her flirting, or this might be even more painful than it already is. 

She counts the floors as they zoom past; 14, 13, 12, 11-

If only she had waited the extra day to test the tech, then maybe she could’ve prevented this.

The roar in her ears she thought was the absence of sound, she realizes is actually the sound of the wind as she accelerates towards the ground. 

10, 9, 8, 7-

She knows enough about physics and the laws of nature to understand what her body is about to go through.

Science doesn’t make it any easier.

6, 5, 4, 3-

Two more floors to go.

One more floor. 

She struggles to take a breath as the impact knocks the air out of her. 

The last thing she sees is the soothing wave of the New York state flag blowing in the breeze at the top of the building.

 

~GB~

 

She doesn’t dare open her eyes. Her body is numb and her lungs ache like crazy. Once her hearing returns, she can hear Abby screaming at someone.

“No! Let her stay with her! Are you crazy? NO! We are the only family she has! Yes, I’m serious! Erin is staying with her and that’s that! Don’t make me use the proton pack on you!”

“Hey! Hey! Abby, calm down!”

“Patty, I don’t need to calm down, you need to anger up! He’s not going to let Erin stay with her in the ambulance! What if she wakes up surrounded by strangers, and if she can’t hear?!” 

Someone is sobbing above her, mumbling something too quietly for her to hear yet. Erin most likely.

As she regains feeling, she can tell someone is squeezing her hand, there’s a heart rate monitor hooked up to her opposite hand, and that she’s lying on a gurney.

There’s also a hand on her face, smoothing back her hair, brushing their thumb over the spot where her dimple is when she smiles, placing a tender kiss to her probably bloody forehead. 

Finally her hearing has returned to normal and she can just make out what the sobbing person is saying. 

“Wake up. Come on. Open your eyes for me. Jillian. Please. Wake up.” 

She squeezes the hand back with whatever strength she can muster. 

“Erin?” She breathes out, eyes flickering open and then promptly squinting against the glaring light of the sun. 

“Jillian! Someone- Abby- She’s awake!” Erin quickly composes herself, snatching back the hand tangled in Holtzmann’s hair and using it to wipe away her tears. 

“How long was I out?” Holtzmann croaks.

“The year is 2040, our president is a plant,” Erin jokes back at her the line Holtzmann said a little over a year before. There’s a different tone to it this time.  

Holtz attempts a laugh, but it hurts too bad and ends up groaning instead, earning a concerned look from all three Ghostbusters. 

“It’s lucky the police department had that tent up to protect the crime zone from all the rain we’ve been getting. If it wasn’t for you landing on that, you might not have made it,” one of the medics informs her. He loads her into the ambulance, Erin still clutching her hand desperately. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Abby glares at him, pointing from the proton pack, to him, and then motions across her throat, so he lets Erin stay. 

“It looks like you might only have a mild concussion, temporary hearing damage from the explosion, and you’re going to need stitches on your face laceration, but you’ll still need scans to be sure. Can you tell me the full date today?” He shines a flashlight into her eyes, checking her pupillary response. 

“No, but to be fair, I never know the date.”

Erin rolls her eyes.

“I can tell you it’s a Wednesday.” Holtz grins the best she can, which ends up looking more like a grimace. 

She’s lucky this is the worst that happened. She’s lucky she landed on a tent. She’s lucky she has the Ghostbusters as family. She’s lucky she didn’t die because Erin would miss her too much, or maybe she would miss Erin. She’s not sure if dead people can miss things. 

They spend all afternoon and evening at the hospital getting scans, waiting for the results, and then getting more scans. By the time they get back to the firehouse, all she wants to do is sleep. Yet that’s the one thing alluding her. Her body is craving it, her mind is craving it, and still she only lies on her bed completely and 100% awake 2 hours later. 

“Local Ghostbusters team busted by a ghost. Stay tuned for news at 11.”

Holtz turns off the TV in her room, not caring to hear how the media will spin the story.

There’s a soft knock on her door and she slowly walks over to open it, moving carefully because of the nasty looking black and purple bruise that covers most of her left hip from where she hit the wall. 

Erin is shyly standing outside in her pajamas, hands folded neatly in front of her. “The doctor said to wake you up every 2-3 hours to make sure you’re not in a coma.”

“You mean there’s a chance for me to still become a ghost?” Holtz tries out playfully. “You know, we really missed a great thing by me not dying. I’d make an awesome ghost. I’d haunt your ass so hard.” It misses the mark big time and after she says it, she sees Erin’s upset look. 

“Don’t joke about that. It’s not funny.” 

“Sorry.” Holtz drops her shoulders, defeated. “Now that you’ve seen I’m very much awake and not at all in a coma, you can go back to bed. I’d hate to disturb your sleep,” she bites. She’s angry all of a sudden. Angry and sad and hurting. She wants to make something explode, or kiss Erin, or both. 

“I’m not sleeping, but I can go.” 

Her anger dulls. She didn’t mean to hurt Erin. Her chest tightens at the thought of spending the whole night by herself. “Stay? Actually, I’d like you to stay.” Holtzmann rocks back, allowing Erin to enter her room. She crosses to her bed and motions for Erin to join her. 

Erin drops down on top of the covers next to her, propped up by a mountain of pillows. 

There is only silence between them as they try to think what to say. 

“We could’ve lost you, Holtzy, and all you can do is joke about it? You almost died and there wasn’t anything I could do about it!” 

“I’m sorry.” She can’t even look at her.

“I could’ve lost you and you wouldn’t have even known how I lo-” Erin aggressively tucks her hair behind her ears, angry that Holtz keeps staring at the blanket crumpled in her hand. “Jillian look at me!” 

Holtzmann locks eyes with Erin, something thrumming inside her at the command in her voice and use of her first name.

Erin is unable to continue for several long seconds.

“Fuck it.” Holtzmann closes the distance between them, fingers tentatively exploring Erin’s stomach as her mouth moves over Erin’s. 

Erin doesn’t kiss her back. 

Holtzmann jerks away, disappointment written all over her face. She wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand, and shifts further away from Erin. This is why she didn’t want to just jump her. She didn’t want to spook her or ruin their ‘work dynamic.’ 

“I love you,” Erin blurts out.

Somehow it seems odd to Holtzmann that she never expected to hear those words, especially when they sound so amazing coming out of Erin’s mouth. 

Holtz blinks a few times, trying to process it.

“Jillian, I swear to gosh, if you don’t get your freaking face back over here, so I can kiss you-” 

She doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Holtz nips at Erin’s bottom lip, which elicits a low moan from her. Wandering hands snake their way under shirts and slide over skin. It’s helpful that both of them are in their pajamas, so there is no hindrance from underclothes. It’s not like there would be normally, at least not for Holtz because she hardly ever wears a bra at the firehouse. 

Holtz runs her tongue along Erin’s lip, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss, and Erin lets her gladly. Erin removes one hand from where she had been gently massaging Holtz’s breast and slips it into her hair, tugging softly. 

“Fuck, Erin,” Holtz moans into her mouth. 

“Unfortunately I think that goes under the list of strenuous activity you’re not allowed to do with a concussion.” Erin sucks on Holtz’s neck. 

Holtz squeezes her thighs together, trying to relieve the building pressure. “Do giving orgasms count?” She asks hopefully. 

Erin catches on, stripping as she talks. “You know, I don’t know that one, but it wasn’t on the list, so I’m going to say no.”

“Good.” Holtzmann shoves Erin’s shoulder gently to get her on her back as she kisses a path downwards.

**Author's Note:**

> But can we take a moment to appreciate Abby yelling at the ambulance guy? I love that part.


End file.
